Tristan rubbed his head again, letting his hand slowly run down his face. She wouldn't even talk to him. Her silence had to be a refusal to accept his apology.
*She doesn't want you here.*
He sluggishly started toward the stairs but stopped when he heard the bed creak. Cianne's footsteps turned him around. He wasn't sure how he closed the space between them so quickly but he lifted her off her feet and buried his face in her neck.
"I can't lose you," he told her. "I'll do whatever it takes for you to forgive me."
"Tristan, what we did last night was something I wanted to do." He placed her back on her feet. "I don't regret it and I don't want you to."
"I woke up and you weren't there and I thought. . ." He placed his hands on either side of her face and peered into her eyes. "I saw your tears." His gut tightened as he thought of what he would admit next. "And I didn't stop." He shook his head. "I don't know what came over me. I should have stopped."